


After the Aftermath

by sprx77



Category: Bleach
Genre: Academy, Afterlife, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Disregarding everything after fullbring stuff, I'm not even going to acknowledge quincy powers like seriously, Ichigo goes to Shinigami Academy basically, Obnoxious fanboy roommate probably, Shinigami Academy, Shinigami Arts Academy, Shiro is Shiro, Winter War Hero, Zangetsu is Zangetsu, at the very least, seriously
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2014-03-17
Packaged: 2018-01-15 14:01:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1307428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sprx77/pseuds/sprx77
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurosaki Ichigo died in a hospital bed two minutes before midnight on the eve of his twenty-seventh birthday.</p><p>Hatake Kai sat up with a gasp at 12:01.</p><p>Unwilling to have his afterlife controlled by persons and Machiavellian plots unknown, Ichigo (with the help of Kurakara's friendly, neighborhood evil-scientist) ends his sojourn in the land of the living decades before anybody expects, on his own terms.</p><p>Intent on legitimizing his shinigami status so that no one can question his rise to captaincy or denounce it as unearned (phrases like 'not a real Shinigami' and 'only a substitute' make him twitch), he enrolls under a new name with a new look into the Shinigami Arts Academy.</p><p>With Zangetsu and his Inner Hollow to back him up, Ichigo (now Kai) is fully prepared to take the Academy by storm. Only one question remains: will any part of it be left standing by the time he graduates?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> I don't quite know where I'm taking this story yet, and the pairings will probably be made up as I go along, but I adore the trope. Hopefully I'll come back and edit all of the sorry tags and warnings.  
> 

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kurosaki Ichigo dies. For once, he has a say in how it happens.

Kurosaki Ichigo died in a hospital bed two minutes before midnight on the eve of his twenty-seventh birthday.

Hatake Kai sat up with a gasp at 12:01.

“Motherfucker!” He swore. “You said  _on three_ \--”

“Ma, ma, Ichigo~” The man on the other side of the room hid a faint smile behind his fan. The light, jovial tone faded somewhat. “You were expecting it on three. It hurts more when you tense up.”

“And you know this how, exactly?” The orange haired youth rolled his shoulder as he grouched, not really expecting an answer. His spirit form looked barely sixteen.

“If I told you, I’d have to kill you.” He paused. “Again.”

Ichigo--  _Kai_ , now, gotta remember that-- snorted.

“Three times is pushing it, even for you.” Part of him would be forever annoyed that the training he went through to get his soul reaper powers back technically killed him-- and no one bothered to tell him until after the war ended.

Kisuke made a noncommittal noise of agreement as he stowed the fan away and stepped forward. He drew Benihime from his cane as he went.

“Remember to keep things as close to the truth as possible; complicated lies tend to unravel quickly. You have about three days to get to the registration office before testing ends, but I can’t say for certain where you’ll end up. The first district shouldn't be hard to find, regardless. Keep your reiatsu sealed at all times.”

Kai nodded, swallowing hard.

“Thank you. For everything.”

“No need. I’m always up for getting the drop on Soul Society. This is the most fun I've had in _years_. Dying on your own terms before anyone expects you to? It’s inspired.” Kisuke waved away his concern.

He gripped his sword with a rare show of solemnity, ending the farewell with the same note.

“See you on the other side, kiddo.”

Kai closed his eyes and felt the butt of the Zanpakutou brush against his forehead. The world dissolved in a soft sheen of snow white reishi particles.

_

Kai woke up to bright sunlight.

That was the first thing he noticed, at least. He flexed his fingers experimentally, quickly followed by his toes and every muscle in between. Everything seemed to be in working order, but you never knew with Kisuke.

Still, at least the old scientist got him here in one piece. He sat up slowly, amazed at the weightlessness he hadn’t felt in years. He could move in his soul form with an almost laughable ease.

Being trapped in a mortal body for so long was, in hindsight, awful. It had been a necessary evil after the war, when his power level was somewhere northward of high captaincy and his control was absolute nil. It leaked off him in ways that would knock out average humans by proximity alone, for all that it had barely mattered in the constant live combat. He was “alive” but unable to stay among the living without hurting someone.

That kind of reiatsu could, in Zaraki-esque fashion, crush someone all on it’s own.

So, in the lesser of the two evils, he allowed this huge part of his soul to be sealed away. _Temporarily._  Just as he now wore the kido-infused seal over his stomach that filtered the power he could use to a meager fifteen percent of his maximum. In theory, it should help him learn to control his reiatsu-- by starting small and working his way up to all of it. And if  _that_  failed, or something came up (like a rogue espada or fucking Zaraki managing to somehow find him, gods forbid), it was easy enough to undo.

It seemed to be midday here; whether that meant he’d been out for twelve hours or that there was a time difference, he couldn’t tell. Trees surrounded him on all sides, sparse enough to let sunlight filter down through the leaves and gaps between them, and a path-- or road, it was large enough-- carved through them a few feet away to his left.

Birds chirped, heedless of the late hour.

... And he was using the scenery to procrastinate.

Right. No use waiting. Now or never. Kai drew his focus inward and his legs under him in classic jinzen style. The giant cleaver across his back was moved to rest over his lap, blade outward. He settled his hands and waited.

The wind blew by serenely.

 _Zangetsu_.

His query was a drop in an endless ocean of still blackness. It sent out hundreds of thousand of ripples that cascaded outward with no end in sight--

He was falling.

_Ichigo._

The calm, unwavering response resounded through his entire being. When he sat up, hardly aware of the landing, it was once more to bright sunlight and wind-- but the setting had changed dramatically.

Old man Zangetsu was standing, as always, on his  _bankai_  form. His matted hair and tattered cloak caught the wind and rippled behind him. Next to the sword his hollow sat almost casually, white cleaver beside him, a manifestation of insanity with a familiar smirk marring his bloodless visage.

 **“Tch. Sure kept us waiting, King.”**  The distinct, double-echo voice held token annoyance not altogether faked, though the hollow himself made no move to rise.

Ichigo-- for he would always only ever be Ichigo here, in the depths of his soul-- inclined his head in greeting.

“Shiro.” He acknowledged, and saw the subtle stiffness that tensed the hollow’s shoulders. “I wouldn’t have minded another few years to brace myself for dealing with your ugly mug-- time does not dull the memory of that  _horse’s_  backside you call a face.”

Shiro’s grin stretched impossible wider as he stood, tension vanished, with an easy grace, mirrored Zangetsu in hand. Ichigo did not move until they were face to face, and then he allowed himself a smile.

Shiro snorted.

“ **Yeah, well, it’s your face too** ,” He paused, hesitating for almost half a beat. “ **Partner.** ”

And because Shiro always thrives in throwing him off and defying expectations for the sake of defiance, Ichigo got the surprise of arms encircling him, a chin on his shoulder, a cold embrace when he’d been expecting a punch.

Shiro faded from vision, absorbed, yet Ichigo felt him just as clearly; high, cold laughter echoed through his mind.

“Zangetsu?” He questioned, raising a brow.

“Always.” Zangetsu's deep baritone sounded, chin dipping to solidate the answer.

The Zanpakutou granted him a small quirk of the lips before fading, dissolving to his rightful place at the edges of Ichigo’s awareness.

Ichigo looked around at the vertigo-inducing scenery as the two parts of his soul quietly became tangible parts of his consciousness. A towering sideways city-scape looked back at him. Once, when he'd first arrived here, he'd been afraid of falling. The concept seemed laughable now. His mind was more peaceful now than he'd seen it in a long, long time. His last promise to Zangetsu before sealing his powers was to watch more sunsets, spend more time outdoors, to stop and smell the roses.

As the years wore on, Ichigo had made sure to do just that. As a consequence of that new aesthetic appreciation, a few parks had cropped up between buildings. Some of the sky scrapers had window boxes full of blooming flowers. In the distance there was even a forest; from high enough up, he knew you'd be able to see the sun descend over the trees.

It had a certain sense of serenity. Ichigo let his mind wander, wondering-- and knowing that it was true, as the thought occurred-- if the old man had been here watching every sunset Ichigo saw, close but unable to be felt. He shook himself, adopted a wry grin, and nudged the panes of metal and glass with his toe.

He took a step,  _willed_  gravity to exist, and--

Kai opened his eyes, feeling whole once more.


	2. Entrance Exams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Well," Said Miyusaki. "After that performance, I'm almost scared to see how well you'll do at kido."
> 
> Kai gulped. "Scared" was the right word for it, alright.
> 
> Both his hollow and his sword were radiating amusement from their corners of his mind. He gave them the proverbial finger.
> 
> It didn't do anything more than cause Shiro to crack up in peals of raucous and extremely creepy laughter.

Ichigo-- Kai-- blinked at the helpful sign post.

> West Rukongai: District Six

_**Looks like hat-n-clogs actually did something right, for once.** _

Shiro’s amusement underscored his own relief. He’d fully expected to come out in one of the outermost districts; literally as far away from the Academy as possible. His luck would usually guarantee such an outcome.

Throw in Urahara’s ‘help’ and he was surprised to be in Soul Society at all-- much less in one piece. It wouldn’t be too unbelievable for Kai to have spent three months training for the entrance exams in Kisuke’s basement while his body wasted away in a coma, only to end up in a distant land that no one had ever heard of.

After all, his life revolved around accomplishing the impossible. Living Shinigami? Check. Part human/hollow/shinigami? Check, check. Bankai in three days. Hell, even before any of this mess, he was the orange-haired kid who saw ghosts. Hero of the Winter War he may have been dubbed, but there was no reason to think he was anywhere near done with the crazy.

_**Yer startin’ to get a big head there, O Great Hero of the Winter War. Be careful, King, your crown might not fit if you keep it up.** _

_Says my inner hollow._ He shoots back. Case in point.

Zangetsu radiates silent amusement at their antics.

Kai and Shiro bicker a few moments more as the former-- being the one with the motor control of the three (who are technically the same person regardless)-- follows the yellow brick road to Seireitei. Near enough to Seireitei, anyway.

The Academy, as Kisuke had been sure to explain to him, was actually in the first district. It was just outside the walls. The location made it, among other things, easy for high ranking members of the Gotei to show up unannounced and cherry pick recruits.

Kai, in preparation for these visits, had contingency plans within contingency plans to avoid detection before he wanted it. To say nothing of the preemptive ninja measures he and Kisuke had ironed out before his death.

 _ **The hair is my favorite**_ , Shiro added gleefully.

Kurosaki Ichigo the Paramedic had kept his bangs short and pulled the hair at the nape of his neck into a low ponytail. Kurosaki Ichigo the Substitute Soul Reaper left the last battlefield with unruly, unkempt hair that fell into his eyes until he slashed at it carelessly with his Zanpakutou.

Kai found the best of both styles in the “basement” of Urahara Shoten: longer bangs than he’d favored in life, longer hair pulled back in the easy ponytail. Only instead of orange, it was all semi-permanently bleached white by some heinous he-didn't-want-to-ask mix of kido and technology that Kisuke loved blaspheming together under the aegis of ‘science’.

Yoruichi had, in an uncharacteristic fit of non-curiosity, promptly walked back out the moment she stepped through the trap door to see Ichigo in the black shihakusho of his former glory. _Claiming, of all things, to want no part in our madness._

Ichigo had spent three months in that basement getting used to the adopted persona and how to deal with using only 15% of his power. It brought him down to a low-lieutenant reiatsu reading, which wasn't impossible, just highly unlikely. Kido was still a fucking struggle but over three whole months he had made leaps and bounds of progress. The  ‘average’ rate of progression was somewhat of a letdown for Ichigo, who was used to incredible feats of badassery like learning bankai in three days after being a soul reaper for less than a year.

To be fair, Kido was his worst subject. Advancing at a normal rate was a feat if one looked at his past failures.

Kai walked in the direction indicated by the helpful signs. Any further out in the rukongai and there wouldn’t have been any. Still, by the time he made it to the first, the bright late-morning sun had passed overhead and lingered only a few fingers above the horizon.

Urahara had walked him through the admissions process in those three months. There were five tests administered: zanjutsu (swordsmanship), kido, hoho, hakuda (hand to hand combat) and a general knowledge assessment that covers Seireitei history and the various Shinigami disciplines.

Passing three out of five tests was required to get in; any more than three and you qualified for the advanced class. Afterward, they were given a reiatsu reading on a scale of one to ten-- _please don’t let me break the scoring system_ \-- and allowed to pick out electives and extra classes.

The first district was nicer than any of the others he’d passed through. There were bustling shops and vendors and merchants selling wares of every kind imaginable. Kai allowed himself to look around and observe the rukongai in ways Ichigo hadn’t got the chance to when he invaded soul society the first time.

It was crazy, Kai mused, that the people he’d fought and met had gone on to become comrades he would die for in the bloody war nobody had expected. He’d gone from nearly killing Byakuya to accepting-- even enjoying, towards the end--Bankai endurance training from him.

His thoughts were interrupted as he approached the Academy, nestled (of course) next to the wall around Seireitei. It was a huge building on par with a larger University back home. Back in the land of the living, at least.

Kai shook his head and made his way to the registration desk. A bubbly lady that reminded him a bit of Rangiku handed him a few forms attached to a clipboard and told him to take a seat. There were, he noticed, several other nervous souls filling out their own in the waiting area.

It asked some fairly typical questions. Name, district number, how long he’d been in soul society-- Kai penned down ‘N/A’ for that one; surely not every soul kept track?-- and what tests he’d like to apply for of the five. Kai selected every single one, though his knowledge of Seireitei history was probably lacking in the extreme.

He cheerfully checked, 'no permanent residence' and walked back to the registration desk. The lady looked over his responses with the smile he expected and handed him a small ticket, which he did not, and waved him through the door behind her.

“Good luck!” She called after him.

The ticket read a simple 14-5. Fourteen for the participant, five for the number of tests. Depending on how many were already waiting and how many tests they were going to take, the ones in the waiting room behind him could be anywhere from 11-4 or 2-3 to 15-5 right after him.

He spared a second to wonder about those taking less tests than him; surely the tests overlapped? Kai shrugged. After so many years they _had_  to have the system worked out.

This room was more like the lecture hall he had expected, with tiered rows of lab-table-esque ‘desks’ stretching across half of it. He took a seat at the second row in an empty chair. There were even more people here and Kai took to watching them after the first five minutes, just out of curiosity. There was not an attendant, nor had anyone forbid talking back and forth, yet pure nerves seemed to be keeping everyone quiet.

The mark on his left wrist caught his eye. In life, he’d never gotten any tattoos, although he’d been sorely tempted. So many significant things had happened to him and he had so many important people. Inking reminders into his skin seemed fitting; the pain, negligible.

But the reminders wouldn’t have come with him into soul society. Also, once he started, he probably wouldn’t have been able to stop. The simple crescent moon outline was necessary. It was the kido-seal that locked away any traces of hollow reitsu that might try to leak from him. To his surprise, it was no longer a simple outline. Inky black had filled in the crescent. Apparently, Shiro's reitsu was different-- more potent?-- when he wasn't sealed away.

Such a small bit of spiritual energy to keep back such a fierce power.

His respect for kido went up a little. The seal on his stomach was even more complicated. Scrawled lines of ink infused with reitsu kept back 85% of his. Kenpachi's eyepatch didn't do nearly that much, though it had been the inspiration. Kisuke, being the freak that he is, managed to pull up picturesof the basic design on the  _internet_. It was apparently from the same shonen manga that inspired his new identity.

The swirl in around his navel flat-out held nearly half of everything he had. Each individual string of symbols leading away from that center-- and there were eight-- contained an additional nearly 5% of his power. Those could be unraveled if needed, one at a time, as a contingency.

He mused on the scary genius of the shop owner who used to be Captain of the R&D to pass the time until it was his turn to be tested. Finally, after a handful of others, Kai's number combination was called. From the second door to the room, an unranked shinigami had been popping in every so often to announce the next applicant.

Kai stood and made his way down and into the hallway-- only to stop in slight surprise as he found himself in a single-room dojo similar, but not quite the same as, one of the numerous training rooms in the Eleventh.

A sparring mat took up most of the floor-- a three seated judges table was on the far wall. Dummies lined the wall to his left while the right was home to a weapons rack with various asauchi.

He felt Zangetsu's displeasure at the prospect of Kai wielding one. Kai hoped he didn't pick up the nameless blade only for black reitsu to lick down it and transform it into a huge cleaver.

 _Cover blown before I even get into the academy._ Kai masked a grimace.

"Hatake Kai," Called the middle judge. "Step forward and prepare to take the hakudo portion of your entrance exam."

Kai toed off his sandals and stepped onto the cool mat. He bounced on the balls of his feet and did a couple of simple stretches. It felt odd.

This was a luxury you didn't get before battle. People knew of the glorious fights, the bloodied war veteran, but not the days spent feeling heavy and sore.

He did the bare minimum before bending at the waist in a polite bow-- it didn't chafe like he thought, a by product of childhood memories brought up by the mat at his feet.  _You bowed to the sensei._

The judge on the far right rose an eyebrow and stood.

"I'll be your examiner, then." She said. "That's twelfth seat for squad 2, Miyusaki Nahira. I'll also be teaching Kido at the academy this term while Klein-sensei is on maternity leave."

If she noticed Kai tense up, she didn't let on. Was he more concerned about her being a seated officer or her being relatively high up in the omnitsukido?

Shiro cackled in his head at the prospect of fighting one of Soifon's assassins. 

Zangetsu was firm and reassuring even as he stepped back so he wouldn't get drawn into the fight on instinct.

Miyusaki appeared on the mat with a single flashstep. Kai saw her as if she was moving in slow motion.

She was of average height for a woman with dark hair nearly as long as Rukia's, brown eyes, an unfamiliar face. He watched her make a show of popping her neck and stretching her arms languidly.

At 15%, could he take her?

_**Yer about where ya where when ya first busted into Seireitei, King. If you could take Jingle Bells...** _

 Shiro sounded excited. Great.

 _Should_ he take her?

The plan was to handicap himself to 15% and no further. If that meant he could beat her in hand-to-hand.... Well, he would make it look hard. Plus, she was fast. He couldn't move much faster than Renji-- no, bad example,  _Captain_  Abari was fast enough-- much faster than Rukia or Rangiku. Low lieutenant speed and the seated assassins ought to be better than that.

He also couldn't flash step since he had no excuse for knowing how, which tipped the odds in her favor. And presumably, they would be going easy on untrained candidates...

"Begin!" Barked the head judge, and Kai didn't have any more time to think about it. She went slow to take his measure, of course, but he saw the leg shoot out at his head and brought a forearm up to block automatically. He stepped forward, with her leg and into her guard. He put a spin on it, back to her falling leg, back fist to the side that didn't connect because even as she dodged he was more preoccupied with dropping seamlessly to the ground to send a sweep kick after her remaining leg. 

She hopped up and over it before somersaulting back. She looked a little impressed, to his surprise, and when she grinned it was all toothy and a bit wild.

"Fast." Was all she said, sounding pleasured, before darting back in. He was hard pressed to stop each of her jabs, but finally managed to grab a fist. She ducked under his kick and pulled from his grasp, but in doing so gave him time to land a solid hit and start on the offense.

She dodged and ducked, of course; it was like sparring with Yoruichi before he could flash step.

Finally, she called time. They had exchanged hits and both looked rather ruffled. Ichigo was breathing slightly faster than when they had started. 

"Pass," She admitted, only to be echoed by the head judge and the unseated soul they kept using to call in participants, who was occupying the third judge's seat.

Kai bowed to all three in turn, saving Miyusaki for last.

"Thank you for the match, Sensei."

She smirked. "I will enjoy having you in my class, I think."

The head judge had a rather gruff voice and buzz-cut. He looked severe and had the air of a commanding officer ready to dish out orders.

"Zanjutsu before hoho." He proclaimed, standing. "Take a weapon from the rack."

Kai did as ordered, taking his time. They had... a  _lot_ of weapons. Everything from a standard blade to the spikey ball thing Soifon's lieutenant favored. There was even a lance resembling Ulquiorra's  _Murcialago._ Predictably, however, there was no giant cleaver resembling his shikai state.

It took a few more moments for his eyes to zoom in on the longest classic asauchi. How many times had Byakuya commented on the unimpressive appearance of his bankai? From the very first time he'd seen it, he'd been comparing it to the nameless academy blades. Kai pulled it away from the rack with care, nearly stumbling backwards with how  _light_  it was and how foreign and  _dead_ it felt. Zangetsu was a part of him. This might well have been a stick.

And it still didn't have the reach of his bankai.

Kai stepped a ways away from the wall of weapons and took a hesitant stance. Half a dozen practice swings later the burly judge cleared his throat.

"Are you  _quite_ finished?" He asked, clearly annoyed.

"What?" Kai's mouth shot off before his brain could catch up. "You think I'm stupid enough to charge head first into a fight with a blade I'm not used to?"

That was the height of stupidity. No idiot picked a weapon they were unfamiliar with to go into live combat. Even if-- he glanced down at the blade-- they're dulled beyond all reason. Why weren't they just using Bokken?

**_Maybe they wanna see what type of weapon yah favor? See what type you gravitate to, get an idea of what shape yer Zampakutou might take_.**

_See_ , thought Kai with realization, _if you were an idiot who went for the biggest sword in the place and started swinging it around._

 _ **Exactly**_ **,** praised Shiro.

Unexpectedly, his opponent laughed. "Oooh, a rookie with common sense. That's not something I see very often. I approve."

Confused about the permission but not about to squander it, he did a few more practice katas and got used to the shorter reach and infinitely lighter weight.

_Are you calling me fat?_

Kai had to suppress laughter and the pseudo-indignant tone of his sword. The tension drained out of his shoulders and he felt the old man smile.

What was he getting worked up about? Speed and swordsmanship were his best attributes. He was only letting it psych him out. This was the first time-- literally, ever-- that he'd go into battle without Zangetsu. But Zangetsu was still there, reassuring in his mind even as he kept his distance. Shiro more than made up for it, sliding to the forefront, giving Kai better  _instincts_. With the hollow so close to the surface, he was more likely to react than think.

"I'm ready, sensei." Kai said, lowering the blade to his side. He stepped forward to face the judge.

"My name is Nakahama Shoji and I'm in charge of the Zanjutsu classes at the academy. You're pretty fast, kid, but don't get cocky. All the speed in the world won't help you if you can't hold a sword!"

Which was actually complete bullshit, Kai thought. He'd been disarmed in combat before and speed had let him  _dodge_ and saved his ass long enough to reclaim an indignant Zangetsu ( _You did_ not _just drop me!_ ).

"Begin!" Said Miyusaki and Kai dropped into an appropriate stance. There was nothing formal about it. He'd never received formal training outside of karate when he was younger. Everything he knew about swordsmanship he picked up along the way. He had to, in order to survive.

Nakahama came at him, giving him plenty of time to block. The asauchi was ridiculously light; Kai had it up before he remembered moving, darting to the side even as the  _clang_ told him of success. He batted the other sword away and went under Nakahama's guard, aiming for the side. When that was thwarted-barely- he spun around, leaving his back to Nakahama for half a second, and brought the asauchi crushing down on the other man's shoulder. The instructor fell with a grunt.

Kai was actually pretty proud of himself. The instinct when he saw someone coming at him, sword raised, was to cut through them and move on to the next enemy. It was long-ingrained habit from fighting on the front lines of a war, outnumbered 30 to 1. That feeling of pride diminished slightly as Nakahama scowled at him.

"So," He said as he stood. "I see you've got some experience. Well, my mistake for going easy on you."

His next strike was faster, bolder, more controlled. The first clash of nameless blade against Nakahama's Zanpakutou felt like it was going to shatter the asauchi. This in mind, Kai leapt backwards, nearly gliding with his sword raised. How many times had he done it in midair during the war?

 ** _King!_  **Shiro shouted, snapping him back.

Nakahama was charging forward, sword raised in both hands.

Kai surged forward, ignoring his arms and the blade, shooting to the left and dragging his blade along the man's unprotected stomach. He emerged on the other side and twisted, asauchi whirling and stopping just short of the man's neck. The horizontal slice to the stomach had forced him to his knees and so they stood, Kai poised like a royal executioner.

Dead silence.

Finally: "...Pass." 

The man on the ground sounded incredulous.

"Agreed." Said Miyusaki faintly. The other judge stuttered an approval in a distinctly Hanatorou-esque fashion. Kai bit back a scowl. He should have just exchanged clashing blows with the man until the Asauchi broke, but destroying a Zanpakutou, even one with no name, seemed blasphemous. 

Kai withdrew the sword almost sheepishly.

"Hoho next," Said Miyusaki. She and Nakahama traded spots. The look she gave him now was most wary.

"We're going to play a bit of Demon Tag." She announced, unceremoniously throwing him a green glove and slipping on a red one. "I'll start first."

She flew at him, hand outstretched. It was... very hard for Kai to suppress his initial reaction. This was something Yoruichi would consider a training game. It was almost impossible to stay in place when every instinct he had screamed  _be elsewhere!_ Flash stepping to the other side of the room was something he absolutely could not do.

He remained rooted in place, eyes wide, legs trembling. Miyusaki pulled the punch at the last moment to deliver a tap to his shoulder. A red splatter of paint appeared there.

It was like a challenge, Kai realized. Training to boost his base speed without resorting to flash step. This way, his flash step will be even faster, his body more durable to the extreme speeds.

With that in mind, Kai darted after her. He moved as quickly as he could without using reitsu. He didn't notice Miyusaki's eyes widen. They darted around at middling speeds, bouncing off the floor and launching towards each other, leaping away; it was like a dance. For Kai, it really was a challenge. Keeping at non-Shunpo speeds was difficult after so long forcing himself to get faster and faster.

He'd been trained by the best, after all. Shihōin Yoruichi was called the Flash  _Goddess_. Ichigo had needed to  suppress a blush every time someone used that moniker, lest his face out-do is hair in terms of red.  _Flash_ goddess indeed.

Kai scored a green hit on her back and after that he didn't have time to think, only react. Five minutes later she called the game to a decisive halt.

Their rapid-fire game ceased. She was looking at him with unblinking eyes and an indiscernible expression.

They were both covered in paint from two dozen or more tags. Towards the end, there had been scant instances between exchanges.

Kai was panting heavily now. Flash stepping was like cheating. Without using Reitsu, his legs were shaking. When was the last time Miyusaki, or any member of the Omnitsukido for that matter, push themselves without resorting to flash step? She looked worse for wear as well.

Her breathing was recovered much quicker than his.

"Well, you definitely pass." She managed. "I can't wait to teach you  _Shunpo_. You nearly  _won_." _  
_

She sounded positively gleeful about this, a Shiro-style grin slowly turning up her lips.

"Um." He responded.

"Well," Said Miyusaki. "After that performance, I'm almost scared to see how well you'll do at kido."

Kai gulped. "Scared" was the right word for it, alright.

Both his hollow and his sword were radiating amusement from their corners of his mind. He gave them the proverbial finger.

 _Fucking traitors_.

But it didn't do anything more than cause Shiro to crack up in peals of raucous and extremely creepy laughter.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay guys, I spent most of the day on this. Feel free to point out any mistakes. I slipped up and called Kai "Ichigo" a lot of times, but I think I got all of the errors. I'll come back and edit later! Kinda in a hurry now; gotta go pop fireworks with my family. Celebrating our nations independence day with colorful explosives. I sometimes feel like America is the Fairy Tail guild of the world.

**Author's Note:**

> Update: So I'm working on chapter 2 and also trying to come up with some sort of outline. I've decided to change Ichigo's new name from Shinichi due to complications with other characters' names. 'Kai' seems like it fits Ichigo but doesn't look as impressive in my summary. We shall see how it fits. No promises I won't change even that.


End file.
